


Factory of Faith

by handcuffedhale (fizzingweaselbee)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, High School, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:13:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzingweaselbee/pseuds/handcuffedhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerd!Lydia and Popular!Stiles.</p><p>Your basic, role reversal human!au</p><p>Posted on <a href="http://handcuffedhale.tumblr.com/">my Tumblr</a> initially</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. C'Mon Girl

**Author's Note:**

> So the ones I posted on Tumblr are gonna be shorter, but after I've finished with those, the chapters should get closer to the 2K+ mark.
> 
> Chapter titles are from Red Hot Chili Pepper's songs

"C’mon, just try out for cheerleading with me?" Allison shut Lydia’s locker, face already in a pout.

Lydia shook her head. “I don’t know why you want to, all we’ll do is stand at the back if we get in.” 

"We will, I’ve seen you cartwheel, and archery means my hand-eye co-ordination is good." Allison wheedled, following Lydia as she walked to AP Chemistry. "Stiles plays lacrosse, you know, and we’ll go with them for meets." Lydia turned to glare at her best friend, blushing. 

"Underhand." She hissed, but her resolve was thinning, and Allison knew it, dimpling at her until she sighed. "But fine, we’ll embarrass ourselves and you can make eyes at Scott." This time Allison blushed, and she shoved Lydia’s shoulder before legging it down the corridor.

Lydia took her seat behind Stiles quietly, the bell ringing as she did so. “Hey, do you have a pen?” She looked up, startled when hazel eyes met amber. “I forgot mine, and Harris hates me enough as it is.” Lydia wordlessly handed him her spare pen, heart fluttering when he smiled. “Thanks, uh…”

"Lydia." Her cheeks were burning, and he nodded before turning back to the front.

When the bell rang at the end, his face was guilty as he held out her pen. “I might’ve chewed it a little, I’ve been told that my oral fixation knows no bounds, sorry.”

"Keep it," Lydia replied, ducking out of the way of Scott McCall, who’d wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders, asking if he shared a class with ‘the new girl’. Lydia smiled, vowing to tell Allison before the cheer tryouts.

**

After they’d been put through their paces, Scott jogged up to where Allison stood and Lydia sat. “Hey, you two were good,” he’d included Lydia, but was talking to Allison, who smiled, dimples turned up to the max.

"I’m gonna…" Lydia pointed to the building, jogging away.

Someone easily caught up to her, and she tensed when Stiles put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you know Allison, right? Do you think Scott has a chance? Cause he’s head over heels, it’s a little pathetic, but also annoyingly adorable.”

"I’d tell you, but I think I’d have to kill you." Lydia replied, and Stiles laughed, throwing his whole body into it. When he stopped, he studied her briefly, hand still on her shoulder.

"True, nice to know you ladies have a bro code too. I’ll see you round, Lydia." He ran back to the lacrosse team, tackling Jackson Whittemore, and Lydia berated herself for the flutters in her stomach from him remembering her name.


	2. The Greeting Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scheming begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has already been posted on [my tumblr](http://handcuffedhale.tumblr.com/)

"Scott asked me on a date," Lydia looked up so fast her neck cracked, and Allison winced in sympathy, moving paper off of Lydia’s bed and onto the floor. "Well, it’s kind of a date, Jackson and some other girl will be there, and Stiles and Danny - not as like a date, just to go - and yeah, I don’t know."

Lydia smiled at the happiness on Allison’s face. “Hey, you did good. What’re you doing?”

"Bowling." Allison replied, and Lydia laughed. "The boys are all really competitive, and so they’ve got a bet going, and Scott told me he can’t bowl for shit, but I can, so I’m gonna be on his team."

"And you’re gonna make out when you win, yeah, I get it." Lydia teased. "You wanna borrow something to wear?" Despite her mom almost always being absent, she always brought Lydia home clothes, not all of which she wore, and purple was always more Allison’s color than Lydia’s.

Allison smiled. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I have stuff, but I wanna look cute, you know?” Her smile dropped as her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked up at Lydia guiltily. “Do you want me to ask for you to come too? I didn’t even think, I’m sorry.”

Lydia shook her head. “It’s fine, it’d be awkward with me there anyway, you have fun okay? And use a condom.” Allison stuck her middle finger up as she rummaged in Lydia’s wardrobe.

**

When Stiles dropped into the seat next to her in AP Math, Lydia jumped, and not only because of the loud thunk of his bag on the desk.

"So, how long do you think it’ll be until we can convince our best friends that they’re in love with each other?" He asked with premise, and Lydia shut her mouth with a clack, frowning at him before shrugging. "Okay, so obviously they are aware of themselves, but if I have to hear Scott ask if I think Allison likes him one more time, I’m going to tackle him harder than necessary in lacrosse, and we kind of need him."

Lydia studied him for a second, noting that he tapped his foot against the desk. “I’m going to tell Allison that, you know. So much for your bro code.” The air quotes around the last two words were heavily implied, and this time Stiles shrugged, but he did so with a smirk.

"Well, it’ll probably spur her onto doing something radical like kissing him." He replied cheerily, waving at someone sitting two rows in front of them. 

Lydia sighed, twisting her hair around her finger and worrying her lip as she thought it through. “There’s a lacrosse thing next weekend, right? If you can get him to sit next to her on the bus, I’ll do the rest,” Stiles nodded just as the bang of the teacher slamming a rubber against the blackboard interrupted them, and Lydia tried to ignore the annoyance that not only was Stiles athletic, but he could understand Advanced Trig before she could.


	3. Road Trippin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scoping out 'the situation'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has already been posted on [my tumblr](http://handcuffedhale.tumblr.com/)

Stiles slid into the seat next to her at the last minute, twisting to study where Allison and Scott were sat next to each other two rows back. “Mission accomplished,” He held up his hand in a fist, and Lydia cautiously bumped it with her own, a small smile on her lips at the excitement on his face.

"You don’t have to sit here, you know, I’ve briefed Allison on what to do and such, so it’ll all go without a hitch," Stiles frowned at her, and silence dragged out between them. "I mean, I just figured you’d want to sit with your team mates." Lydia supplied, and Stiles shrugged.

He pulled a book out of his bag, bending the cover back before Lydia could see what it was. “Nah, I’m cool here. Unless you’re harbouring a hatred for me, and you’ve been too polite to tell me about it? Because if you have, I’ll move.”

"No that’s not - you’re fine," Lydia finally replied.

Stiles lightly bumped his shoulder into hers. “Such glowing commendation.”

"Well, don’t get used to it," She retorted with a smile, stomach fluttering when he returned it.

**

They had been riding for two hours when Lydia’s phone went off, and she checked it, grinning at the message.

"Is it a mission report?" Stiles’ face was suddenly pressed against hers as he read the text, twisting in his seat to study where Scott had fallen asleep with his head on Allison’s shoulder. He gave her a thumbs up before turning back. "As long as Scott doesn’t drool on her, we should be good."

Lydia rolled her eyes, typing out a quick response before resting her phone on her leg, letting out a squeak of surprise when Stiles stole it.

"Relax, I’m just putting my number in so we can swap information. I won’t go through your sexts to your older boyfriend, no worries," Lydia forced out a sarcastic laugh, getting her phone back as soon as Stiles had finished typing. A few minutes later, Stiles elbowed her. "You gonna see if it works?"

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Are you questioning your own ability to type in numbers?” Stiles shrugged, and Lydia typed out a message, shooting Stiles a look when his phone beeped.

"At least we know I’m not a dumb jock, eh?" Stiles said, tucking his phone back in his pocket after sending a reply. He tilted his head so he could scope out the ‘situation’. "Allison is now asleep too, they’re going to wake up unbearably awkward and adorable and we’re both going to want to shoot ourselves."

Lydia rested her head back. “Noise cancellation headphones, put them on before he finds you.” She stated, letting her eyes fall shut once Stiles turned back to his book.


	4. Tell Me Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Silence fell in the motel room before Stiles rolled onto his front, studying the books Lydia had open. “You’re seriously doing math homework right now?” He asked incredulously, and Lydia bristled._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has already been posted on [my tumblr](http://handcuffedhale.tumblr.com/)

A knock on the door had Allison shooting off the twin bed. She’d told Lydia that Scott had promised to come visit, so Lydia was unsurprised by her reaction.

"We come bearing the fruits of the vending machine downstairs," That voice had Lydia sitting up in shock, making eye contact with herself in the mirror as she surveyed the messy half-bun her hair was in.

She didn’t have any time to right it, because Allison stood aside to let Stiles enter, closely followed by Scott. Stiles collapsed onto the bed Lydia was sitting on, grinning up at her from where he lay. Scott and Allison both sat on Allison’s bed, Scott smiling briefly at Lydia before the couple started talking in hushed tones.

"God, they’re so coupley, aren’t they?" Stiles moaned, enthusiastically responding when Scott flipped him off. "I have the feeling that they’ll get married straight out of high school and have millions of adorable, dimpled babies." He continued.

This time Allison shot him a glare, a lot fiercer than Scott’s attempt. “We’re going for a walk,” She announced, dragging Scott after her.

Silence fell in the motel room before Stiles rolled onto his front, studying the books Lydia had open. “You’re seriously doing math homework right now?” He asked incredulously, and Lydia bristled.

"I want to understand it by next lesson," She replied defensively, and Stiles shuffled around so he was lying next to her.

He grabbed her pen, his arm brushing against her stomach as he did so. “I can explain, if you want? I’m a visual learner, so I usually end up ignoring everything teach says and making my own notes,” Lydia lifted one shoulder.

"I think I’ll be okay," She watched Stiles flick through her notes, her pen held between his teeth.

He snorted. “Right, because I’m just some jock with pretty diagrams,”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Self-deprecation isn’t cute on anyone. I just don’t want you stuck up here teaching me math when you’d rather be elsewhere.”

"I wouldn’t have offered if I wanted to leave," Stiles pointed out, lightly bumping their shoulders together. "Okay," he put her pen down in favour of grabbing a highlighter, uncapping it with his teeth and scrawling over her notes, explaining things as he did so.

By the time Scott and Allison returned, Lydia had lay down next to Stiles, the gap she’d left closed by his need to sprawl.

"Thanks for the help, and the food," Lydia said as he stood, tugging on a strand of hair that had fallen loose of the ponytail she’d shoved her hair up into halfway through the night.

Stiles grinned, winking. “No problem, gotta let the lovebirds have some alone time,” Scott punched his shoulder, but both he and Allison looked happily flushed, and they chastely kissed goodbye, ignoring the retching sounds Stiles made.


	5. Shallow Be Thy Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did I impress you?” He wiggled his eyebrows as he looked from Allison to Lydia._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _The redhead rolled her eyes. “It would be more impressive if it were a play we hadn’t studied every year since middle school,” She retorted, deciding to leave out the fact that she’d pretty much got A Midsummer Night’s Dream memorised thanks to AP Lit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first chapter not on my tumblr, so it's a little longer than the others.
> 
> The monologue Stiles quotes is from Romeo & Juliet, Act I Scene I: 152-163

“How you doing?” Stiles collapsed on the bench next to her, pulling the bottom of his lacrosse shirt up to wipe at the sweat on his forehead.

Lydia allowed herself a cursory glance of his defined stomach before replying. “Well, I’m sitting on the bench, which pretty much negates the half hour of stretching we had to do.” She pointed out drily.

“Yeah, well, you’re not allowed to complain until coach makes you do suicide runs until someone pukes. I swear he wants to kill or incapacitate half the team before tomorrow,” Stiles leant against her, craning his neck to see around the group of cheerleaders practising their routine. “I don’t know if Scott could look more awkward if he tried,” He commented before moving back, leaving their shoulders touching.

Lydia shrugged, having been the one to shove Allison in his direction. “It’s adorable that he’s dorky,” She replied, and Stiles’ response was interrupted by a loud thump and a cry.

When the pair reached the source of the sound, Scott had already picked the girl up, and Allison was bracing her ankle. “Okay, move her to one of the benches. Sometimes I wonder if any of you kids have brains at all.” Coach Finstock blew his whistle twice before stalking off, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey, is she okay?” Lydia caught Allison around the wrist, both watching as Scott gently set her down, Stiles running up to him, grinning at the girl in question as he talked.

Lydia ignored the twist in her gut.

Allison shook her head. “From what I can tell, the bone’s broken at least once. There’s no way she can cheer tomorrow.”

“Which is why you will be,” The cheer captain, Keeley, stated, causing Lydia to whirl around, face heating up from a mixture of nerves and embarrassment.

She shot Allison a frantic glance. “Uh, you’ve seen me cheer, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated…”

“You can hold a position, right? And you can somersault. Other than that, you need to trust your bases. I’ll get the girls together so you can practice before tomorrow.” She grabbed hold of Lydia’s hand, and Allison covered her mouth to hide her laugh as Lydia mouthed pleas at her over her shoulder.

**

“Do you know how much I hate you for abandoning me like that?” Lydia slammed the door against the wall, her wince at the sound ruining her angry stance. “They dropped me seven times in thirty minutes. We have to wear the uniform tomorrow; I’m going to be covered in bruises.” She fell face first onto her bed, throwing her pillow in the direction of Allison when she heard her chuckle.

Allison responded in kind, and they were engaged in a fierce pillow fight when the doorbell rang. Lydia hopped off of her bed, pillow in hand and cheeks flushed, grinning over her shoulder at Allison as she pulled the door open.

Stiles’ eyes moved from her expression to the pillow in her hand before they lit up. “Am I dreaming, or were you and Allison just engaged in a pillow fight in your room?”

Scott hit him around the head before Lydia could think of a response. “Ignore him, he’s high on endorphins and coffee,” He smiled at Lydia, dimples almost as cute as Allison’s, and Lydia marked him down as okay. 

“To be fair, we also brought you coffee, because Scott wouldn’t stop talking about Al-” the rest of the sentence was muffled by Scott’s hand, and Lydia stepped aside to allow them in, ducking her head to hide her smile at how much wider Scott’s grin got when he saw Allison.

Stiles nodded at her once Scott removed his hand from his friend’s face, holding out a coffee that Lydia wrinkled her nose at. “Not a coffee person?” Stiles asked, popping the lid off and breathing in the smell as he sat down on her bed. 

“Drink the coffee just so he won’t, please,” Scott said, and Lydia curled her hand into a fist to bump his extended one when she stole the cup from Stiles. “Automatic new favorite person,” He looked between Stiles and Allison before turning to Lydia with an apologetic look. “Okay, automatic third favorite person. Don’t tell my mom.” Lydia giggled, the sound surprising both herself and Allison, judging by her raised eyebrows, and Lydia took a sip of coffee, mouth pulled down at the bitter flavour.

Stiles moaned, eyes fixed on the cup as she sat on the chair by her bed. “You don’t even like coffee, it’s just cruel.” He threw an arm over his face.

“You should definitely quit lacrosse for drama club,” Allison commented, and Stiles sat up.

_He rested a hand on his heart. “Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,_  
 _Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!_  
 _Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?_  
 _Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all._  
 _Here's much to do with hate, but more with love._  
 _Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!_  
 _O any thing, of nothing first create!_  
 _O heavy lightness! serious vanity_!  
 _Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!_  
 _Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,_  
 _sick health!_  
 _Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!_  
 _This love feel I, that feel no love in this._ ” He stood up on the bed and bowed, grinning at an applauding Scott. “Did I impress you?” He wiggled his eyebrows as he looked from Allison to Lydia. 

The redhead rolled her eyes. “It would be more impressive if it were a play we hadn’t studied every year since middle school,” She retorted, deciding to leave out the fact that she’d pretty much got A Midsummer Night’s Dream memorised thanks to AP Lit.

“Yeah, well, there are only so many extracurricular activities I have time to do, what with lacrosse, homework and keeping my dad healthy.” His reply was more serious than Lydia anticipated, and she shifted in her chair, taking a sip of the coffee so she had something to do with her hands. “Sorry to bow out early, but I have a hot date, so I’m gonna be,” He pointed at the doorway, clapping Scott on the shoulder as he passed, smiling at Allison and Lydia before he left, the door shutting behind him with a click.

Lydia took another sip of the coffee, nodding when Allison told her she was going to walk Scott back, and she smiled at Scott’s parting words.

The coffee was a bad idea, she realised, when she was up at two in the morning chewing on the skin around her thumbnail, and she studied her math folder before pushing it under the bed, picking up the history textbook they’d been told to read with a sigh.


	6. Get Up & Jump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Pass to Stilinksi, Jackson, this is a team game!” Finstock yelled, the sound making Lydia wince and lean into the girl next to her. She joined everyone in their section in cheering when Scott scored, jumping a little in excitement as they pulled ahead in the final game._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found writing the lacrosse scenes horrific, so I'm sorry if they're too short, or if the transitions are shakey - all my knowledge comes from Teen Wolf and Wikipedia, so if I've messed it up, I'm sorry. The same for the cheerleading aspect, it's a lot of guesswork.
> 
> My [tumblr](handcuffedhale.tumblr.com)

Despite her sleeplessness, the nerves tangled in her stomach meant Lydia got up before the alarm finished beeping, climbing in the shower.

When she emerged, Allison had rolled onto her back. “How badly will Coach take it if I’m not ready in 20 minutes?” she asked, voice still rough from sleep.

“He’ll probably barge in while you’re changing, yell at you, and then drag you out regardless,” Lydia replied, tapping out a text to her mom before she put on the cheer uniform, wincing at herself in the mirror as she pulled her hair back.

She held her hands out patiently as Allison pinner her hair up, handing back the left over pins with a small smile. “You’ll do fine, you didn’t even get bruised.”

“You should see my thighs, they left finger marks,” Lydia replied, eyes darting to the alarm clock. “There’s no putting it off any longer, we may as well go.”

**

They were, unsurprisingly, two of the first to join the Coach outside the bus, and they took seats in the middle after Allison explained that the boys liked to sit together to get psyched for the game. 

Apparently, their routine involved blasting rap music and yelling at each other. When Stiles tackled Jackson onto the backseat, Coach finally shouted at them, blowing his whistle every time one of them tried to talk back.

Stiles received a week’s worth of detentions for managing to steal the thing from around his neck while he slept.

**

They were all full of nervous energy by the time they reached the tournament grounds, and Lydia found herself almost anxious to start, if only to have something to do with her mind other than worry. She coaxed Allison into stretching with her.

“Scott is staring at your ass,” she teased, and Allison straightened up, blushing, to turn and look over her shoulder. Scott’s eyes flicked away from her, but Lydia could see the blush from where she sat on the floor.

Allison kicked her in the thigh. “Stop laughing,” she ordered, waving at Scott the next time he turned round. He responded with a wide grin before Jackson smacked him on the back of the head. Lydia pushed herself up, brushing off the base of her skirt and sighing.

“I have to go practice not being dropped.” Allison gave her a sympathetic smile, and Lydia mentally steeled herself before joining her group. 

**

“Pass to Stilinksi, Jackson, this is a team game!” Finstock yelled, the sound making Lydia wince and lean into the girl next to her. She joined everyone in their section in cheering when Scott scored, jumping a little in excitement as they pulled ahead in the final game.

Her hands turned clammy, though, when Keeley nodded at her group, and she moved into the centre of the four girls who had positioned themselves on the edge of the field, torn between not wanting to be thrown and wanting Beacon Hills to score.

It took ten minutes, but the ball thrown from Stiles' stick hit the back of the goal with a thunk, and Lydia took a steadying breath, stepping into the laced fingers of the girl in front, hands resting on the shoulders of the girls either side of her. The girl behind her wrapped her hands tightly around her waist as they lifted her up, and the middle two girls bent their knees before pushing up and letting go of her ankles.

Lydia tucked forward, everything a blur of green and white before she was caught, someone’s nail gouging a line in her thigh.

Her legs were shaking as she made it back into the crowd, finding Allison easily in the small group. Allison laced her fingers with Lydia’s, squeezing in reassurance as the adrenaline increased the sound of her heartbeat.

Beacon Hills didn’t have much else to cheer for, though, the Emery High team scoring three times in quick succession to equalise. The referee gathered the teams in, and Finstock’s voice carried across the field as they argued about which method of tie-breaking to use. The teams separated, leaving Jackson and another player to square off in the centre of the field.

Lydia’s voice was hoarse from yelling when finally, _finally_ , Greenberg scored. Instead of cheering along with the rest of them, Finstock sunk into his seat, and Lydia could see him mouthing the student’s name in surprise.

Scott removed his helmet as he approached the group, ducking away when Stiles ruffled his hair. The cheer team circled around the lacrosse team, calling out congratulations and doling out hugs. Eventually, though, Scott arrived in front of Allison, and they grinned at each other for a second before Scott closed the distance between them, dropping his helmet in favour of wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Somehow the winning high makes their sickly sweet relationship more palatable.” Stiles appeared at Lydia’s shoulder, and she turned to face him in place of watching the happy couple.

She grinned. “I think you’re mixing that up with a craving for ice cream,” she replied. “Congratulations, by the way, good game and stuff.”

“You know a suspiciously small amount about lacrosse considering you’re here,” Stiles’ helmet hung from his fingers, swinging slightly as he talked. “I mean, how familiar are you with the rule book?”

Lydia shrugged. “Funnily enough, there wasn't a reading section in the cheer initiation.”

Stiles arched an eyebrow. “Was it more of the shots and mud fighting variety?” Stiles asked, and if he hadn’t been red from the exercise, Lydia would’ve sworn he blushed. 

“I think you’re confusing cheerleading with sororities.” She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see a beaming Allison. “Look who’s no longer attached to another face.” 

Allison elbowed her in the ribs, but the smile stayed.

Stiles nodded at the pair before vanishing into the crowd, and Allison tugged on Lydia’s hand. “There’s a celebration thing at the motel tonight, in Jackson’s room because he managed to swing the largest room they have.”

“Perks of money,” Lydia interrupted. “I’m assuming you’ve been invited, otherwise just announcing that to me seems a little pointless.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “ _We’ve_ been invited, actually,” she corrected the redhead, whose nose wrinkled. “Come on, Lydia, if you hate it we can leave,” she pleaded, widening her eyes.

“I hate that you can do that,” Lydia complained, gesturing to the pleading facial expression Allison wore. “Fine, but if I get stupidly drunk because of inexperience, you are taking me home, and if you kick me out of the room for Scott, I will murder you in your adorable, coupley sleep.”

Allison's façade dropped into a wide smile. “This is why you’re my favorite.” Lydia waved away her comment, and they followed the group to the bus, snagging the seats behind the twins. Aiden turned round and started talking advanced physics with Lydia, so Allison let her eyes flutter shut, Finstock’s whistle waking her up when they reached the motel.


	7. One Hot Minute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“This is going to be fun, live a little!”_
> 
> _Jackson pulled open the door, giving the pair a cursory glance, an eyebrow quirking at Lydia. He jerked his head, stepping aside to let them in, and Lydia pulled down the bottom of the shirt, smiling at a girl she recognised as she followed Allison through the crowds of people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, there's some very mild Bad Touch in this chapter, so if you think it'll upset you, I'd rather you avoid this.
> 
> Also I'm aware that it's quite short, so I'm thinking I bent the truth a little when I promised 2k chapters.
> 
> As always, [my tumblr](handcuffedhale.tumblr.com)

“I feel ridiculous,” Lydia bit out, pulling down the hem of Allison’s shirt. “This barely covers my ass!”

Allison rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have anything, and it looks nice, okay? It’s actually longer than the cheer skirt,” she gave Lydia a once over before placing a hand on either shoulder. “This is going to be fun, live a little!”

Jackson pulled open the door, giving the pair a cursory glance, an eyebrow quirking at Lydia. He jerked his head, stepping aside to let them in, and Lydia pulled down the bottom of the shirt, smiling at a girl she recognised as she followed Allison through the crowds of people. They found Scott talking to Stiles by the drinks table, and he rushed to get Allison a drink, coming back with a grin and two beers. Lydia took the bottle just to have something to do with her hands, leaning against the table next to Stiles and watching people dance, Allison and Scott joining the group of moving people.

“Something tells me you don’t do much of this,” Stiles raised his voice to be heard over the loud base line, waving his free hand around.

Lydia shrugged, taking a sip of her beer and trying not to grimace at the taste. A girl from her history class came over, and they started talking. By the time she’d left, Lydia had finished her first beer and turned to Stiles to ask if she could have another, only to find him absent. She glanced around for someone else, but darkness had fully set in and so the lighting was dim, given off only by the energy saving lamps by the door. She leant across the table to grab another bottle; she realised that if she couldn’t find a familiar face, she’d never find a bottle opener, and she sighed, wondering if Jackson’s room came equipped with a kitchen.

“Want me to get that?” It was a lacrosse player whose name she couldn’t place, and she nodded, smiling in thanks when he handed back the opened bottle. “You’re new, right?”

Lydia shook her head, and then shrugged. “New to cheerleading, not to Beacon Hills,” she replied.

“Huh, that’s weird; I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” He smiled widely at her, hands snaking to settle on her waist. “Are you sure, because I think I’d remember you.”

Lydia’s smile turned slightly acidic around the edges when he took a step forward, torso brushing against hers. “I’m sure, and I’m also not interested.”

“Aw c’mon, babe.” He ducked his head, and Lydia did the first thing she could think of. She stomped down on his foot, kneeing him in the stomach when he leant forwards. She smiled tightly at the people around her as she walked away, dropping her drink into a trashcan as she passed into a less busy room.

“That was pretty bad ass.” She spun around, still on edge, relaxing a little when she saw Stiles leaning against the doorway. “I was planning on swooping in, all knight and shining armour, but you beat me to it.”

“Sorry to spoil your plan,” Lydia replied as he stepped into the room, their voices at a normal level thanks to the wall between them and the music. “Does that happen to you a lot?”

Stiles laughed. “Attempting to save people or having them stick up for themselves so I don’t need to?”

“Either.” She smiled up at him, their proximity emphasising the height difference.

Stiles’ voice was low when he spoke. “No, it doesn’t.” And then he was kissing her, and he tasted of warm beer and peppermint and she lost herself in his lips for a little while, in the dry feel of them against hers as he moved them.

Then the world hit her again, and she pulled back, keeping him away with a firm hand on his chest.

“What, I’m a cheerleader so now it’s okay?” She was angry, Lydia realised, angrier than she’d initially thought, and it must’ve shown because Stiles leant back a little further, concern furrowing his brow.

He put his beer down. “Okay, you’re smart, but that’s an incredibly dense thing to say,” And that didn’t help her anger one bit, so she pushed him a little further away.

“Is it, though? Because two weeks ago you didn’t know my name.” Stiles’ face was so damn easy to read, so she watched the parade of expressions on his face. “Yesterday you left us for a hot date, Stiles, so go find her, okay?” She stood, wobbling a little, but she walked in a straight line out of the room, only stumbling once on the steps before she made it to her room.

She was finished crying by the time Allison snuck in, and if her eyes looked puffy the next morning, Allison’s only movement was to offer her concealer and take a seat next to her on the bus, smiling apologetically at Scott as she did so.


	8. By The Way

Lydia fell asleep about an hour into the journey, the jostling of the bus not waking her until the driver slammed on the breaks and she pitched forward into the seat in front of her.

“Fuck, Jesus.” She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, glaring at a giggling boy who’d sat on the bench for the entire tournament. “Why are we stopped?” she asked Allison, who shrugged.

Lydia’s question was answered promptly by Coach Finstock who stood, putting his megaphone to his mouth. “There’s a six car pile-up, so we’re going to take a break at a service station,” he shouted, and everyone on the bus winced as the sound amplified through the tinny speakers of the megaphone. “Stick in groups of four, if I see anyone disobeying that rule or making fools of themselves, I’ll sit you next to Jared.” He pointed at a green-looking boy who whimpered at the attention, and bus jerked again as they pulled into a car park. “We meet back here in two hours to see if this mess has been cleared up,” Finstock called after the group as the teenagers piled off of the bus.

“Please?” Allison said as soon as they reached the ground, looking between Lydia and where Scott and Stiles were deep in conversation. Lydia frowned at Allison’s wide eyes, but the problem resolved itself when Stiles clapped Scott on the shoulder, heading off to join Danny, Jackson and Ethan.

Scott beamed at Allison as they walked over, leaning to kiss her on the cheek. His smile for Lydia was a little smaller, and Lydia returned it with a tight one of her own, unsure how Scott felt about her rejection of his best friend, despite its validity.

“Who’s the fourth person going to be?” she asked into the silence, and the trio looked around to see everyone else had dispersed.

Scott shrugged. “Looks like there were odd numbers. C’mon, I saw a sign for Starbucks.” He and Allison walked ahead with Lydia trailing behind. They got a booth in Starbucks, Allison and Scott cuddled up on one side whilst Lydia sat on the other, intensely focused on her ice latte and not the couple opposite her.

“I’m going to the loo,” she announced, standing with her coffee in hand.

Allison looked over from her whispered conversation, guilt flashing in her eyes. “You want me to come with you?”

“Nah, I’m fine, you guys stay here,” Lydia replied, the grateful look Allison shot her earning only a quirk of her lips in return. As she walked away she heard Scott ask the question about girls and toilets and rolled her eyes, heading instead for the Waterstones across the car park.

She was staring mostly at her shoes as she walked, and so when someone looped an arm around her waist and yanked her against them, her first instinct was to elbow them.

“Jeez, Lydia, stop.” She turned around to see Stiles partially doubled over, and looked over her shoulder at the driver who’d stopped to swear at them before driving off. “I save you from being run over and you attack me?”

Lydia blushed, a mix of muted anger and the damned attraction stirring in her stomach. “I didn’t know, sorry,” she eventually replied. “Where’s your group?”

“Doing cocaine in the toilets.” Lydia’s eyes widened, and Stiles smiled. “I’m kidding, they didn’t want to go to the bookstore because, I quote, ‘we’re jocks not nerds, don’t be such a pussy’. Sometimes I love how eloquent Jackson is.” Stiles paused. “Where’s yours?”

Lydia shrugged, unsure of how to react to Stiles’ friendliness. “Mine are Allison and Scott, so they’re probably making out in the Starbucks booth I left them in.” She shifted. “I was going to Waterstones too; it holds more appeal than the arcade.”

“Or accidentally entering the world of voyeurism,” Stiles agreed, nodding, and Lydia blushed. “Shall we?” Stiles asked, an indeterminate expression on his face, and they started walking, Stiles looking both ways exaggeratedly before they crossed any of the roads.

**

They were sitting in the café on the second floor, newly purchased books on the table.

_“Thoreau? Really? Are you trying to be a cliché closet nerd?” Lydia eyes his book choice, relieved when Stiles laughed instead of getting offended. She was still waiting on him to reveal he was going to get her back for how she’d reacted._

_He looked down at his book. “I’ve never actually read any of his stuff, and it’s meant to be good.”_

_“If you enjoy that kind of thing, sure.” Lydia stood on her tiptoes, straining for a book on the top shelf. A soft chuckle blew hot hair on her neck, and a larger hand grabbed the novel she’d wanted. Stiles instantly distanced himself, handing her the book._

“I’m sorry for yesterday. If I’d realised how it would’ve been received I wouldn’t have done it.” Lydia looked up to see Stiles staring at his hands. His amber eyes rose to meet hers, expression earnest. “I fall into things quite quickly. Me and Scott were best friends within ten minutes of meeting, so it wasn’t really an adjustment for me. I forget sometimes that not everyone is as easily swayed as me.”

Lydia swallowed. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have reacted so strongly if it wasn’t for what had happened earlier, and,” she trailed off.

“My hot date?” Stiles prompted, and Lydia nodded. “I didn’t have time to explain, but that’s what we call it whenever Jackson wants to gather the team and yell at us. Scott started it last year, and it kind of stuck.” He shrugged, stirring his fruit slushy with the straw he’d chewed beyond use.

Lydia arched an eyebrow, a voice in the back of head telling her that it was all too easy. “You don’t need to make excuses, I don’t mind.” A lie, but Lydia smiled to accompany it.

“Do you have trust issues? Why on Earth would I make that up?” Stiles waved a hand to illustrate his point, a little frustration creeping into his tone.

Lydia was saved from answering by a tinny voice cutting through the store. “Stilinski! Redheaded girl! Where is your group of four?”

“They didn’t approve of our academic pursuits,” Stiles yelled back, and a red-faced Finstock emerged from one of the aisles.

He looked between the pair. “Back to the bus, we’re moving. Which of you is sitting next to Jared?”

“I will,” Stiles volunteered, and Coach stared at him for a second before shrugging. Lydia opened her mouth to say something, but Stiles got up and followed him, leaving Lydia to catch up.

**

“You never came back from the toilet,” Allison said as Lydia took a seat next to her.

Lydia shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I went to Waterstones, and I ran into Stiles.”

“And?” Allison asked, nudging the redhead with her elbow.

Lydia pulled her legs up, resting her chin on her knees. “It was going to fine, like normal, actually, and then he fed me some lie about ‘hot date’ meaning something about Jackson.” She rolled her eyes, sarcastic air quotes not quite covering the hurt in her tone.

“Scott mentioned that, actually. He said it started in Junior year when Stiles complained and Jackson asked him if he had a hot date to get to. So Scott started calling it that to rib on Stiles, and it caught on.” Allison’s glazed smile disappeared as she focused on Lydia’s shocked expression. “Lydia, what’s up?”

Lydia shook her head. “Can you distract Coach for a sec?” she asked, and Allison frowned but nodded. The redhead stood, walking to three seats behind, where Stiles was sitting next to a now white Jared. “Hey, Jared, could you move to sit up the front? Coach wants to make sure you don’t puke.” She smiled at the boy who looked confused but stood, staggering down to the front. Lydia slid into the seat next to Stiles, who was staring out of the window. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles didn’t reply, and Lydia noticed a headphone cable snaking out of his hoodie. She pulled lightly on it, and Stiles’ earphones fell out. “I said I’m sorry,” Lydia repeated, and Stiles folded his arms, apparently a little less forgiving this time.

“For letting me sit with Jared?” he asked, eyebrows raised, and Lydia resisted the urge to kick him for his forced-denseness.

She steeled herself though, putting on the façade of confidence she’d had since starting cheerleading with Allison. “For not believing you, and for being rude at the party. I’m not used to having people interested in me, let alone someone I’ve had a crush on for,” she stopped herself, cheeks flushing with heat. “I guess I just didn’t believe you about the falling into things quickly, although you don’t really give off the impression of forethought, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I plan almost all of the games in lacrosse,” Stiles informed her, but his offended expression cracked when his lips twitched. “Did you really have a crush on me?”

Lydia did hit him at that. “Your ego doesn’t need any more inflating, no matter how dense I’ve been.”

“Sorry about that,” Stiles said, and Lydia shrugged.

“I wasn’t much nicer.” She conceded, and they fell into silence. “So is everything okay? Because I left Allison with Jared and I should probably get back.”

Stiles looked up with a smirk that twisted Lydia’s stomach. “Well it would be suspicious if you went back now.” He laid his hand on the gap between them, and Lydia bit her bottom lip before putting hers over the top. He laced their hands together, squeezing her hand so she looked up. “I don’t want to kiss you in case you punch me in the solar plexus,” he murmured, and Lydia watched his eyes trace down to her lips and back up to meet hers.

“Nice to know I’ve got you on your toes,” Lydia replied, and she kissed him as his mouth split into a wide smile. His free hand moved to cup her cheek as he changed the angle of her head slightly, sucking on her lower lip.

Lydia’s hand curled in the front of Stiles’ hoodie as she opened her mouth under his, tracing her tongue over his top lip.

“Fraternisation is forbidden on this bus.” They jolted apart at the tinny voice in their ears, and Lydia turned to see Finstock glaring down at them. “Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves.” He stared between them before walking back to the front of the bus, and Lydia blushed, elbowing Stiles when he snorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends. Thank you for sticking with it to the end and ignoring the unbeta-ed, self-serving aspects.
> 
> If the resolution seems kind of quick, I apologise, I think Stiles is quite forgiving if apologised to properly, and I also think he'd partially understand Lydia's response from the previous chapter, so yeah, that's my excuse.


End file.
